


The Love Of Strangers

by scorpionmother



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Love at First Sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4824512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionmother/pseuds/scorpionmother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An modern AU story of how Vanessa and Ethan might meet.  Written from both characters point of view.  With thanks as always to my fellow writer and dear friend Twoforatable who has read this for me and given me her insightful feedback.  Therefore I gift this to her x</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwoForATable (AliSimAlice)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliSimAlice/gifts).



She knows even before she digs her phone out of the deep recesses of her bag that the message is from Victor and he is going to be late, again. She purses her lips with a mixture of irritation and affection for her best friend and resigns herself to waiting for him. With the bottle of wine and two glasses, bought just minutes before clutched in her hands her bright blue eyes scan the gloomy room to find an empty table but the only one available is closer to the bar than she’d like although away from the crush of bodies and noise near the door. Vanessa Ives has always felt more comfortable in the darkest corners and recesses with her back firmly against a wall. She can’t believe how many people have succumbed to the lure of alcohol so early in the week but she can hardly talk. When Victor had phoned her earlier to suggest meeting for a drink, she’d jumped at the offer, not just to see him which was always a pleasure, and over the last few months had been more infrequent than she liked, but also to attempt to deaden her senses in the soporific haze of a few glasses of wine. Her senses, always finely honed had, over the last few days been even more sensitive than usual. She felt as if something was scratching around the edges of her consciousness for a couple of days now, something strangely familiar but with a hint of danger that caused her teeth to ache and her stomach to swoop with a hint of desire at unexplained times. As she sits at the small table depositing the bottle and glasses on the scarred surface she feels it again like a breath stirring on the back of her neck, a delicious but slightly terrifying secret waiting to be discovered. She quickly pushes the feeling away putting it down to tiredness and her exasperation at Victor’s obvious tardiness and decides when he appears to have a firm word with him about friendship and what it really means. She pours the wine, her anticipation of the mellow taste enhanced by the glug as it exits the narrow neck of the bottle and swirls into the glass. The colour is the deep velvety red of cardinal roses and the scent of wood smoke and dark fruits drifts into the air. She takes a mouthful closing her eyes as the smoothness caresses her tongue coating her taste buds in rich flavour. She is a creature of pleasure and it shows on her strangely beautiful face as she savours that first taste, feeling it warming through her body which begins to relax. She opens her eyes and with disinterest sweeps her gaze along the bar. The usual familiar groups are there a mix of students and staff from the University. On entering the bar she nodded her acknowledgment to a few familiar faces but avoided engaging those acquaintances in conversation, she is not a social animal preferring the company of her few close friends and herself. And when the mood takes her she knows the places to go to engage with the likeminded who ask no questions and provide for a night the release she needs when the darkness threatens to engulf her. She is just about to open and read Victor’s text to ascertain how long she will need to wait when she notices just to her right sitting at the bar with his back to her an unfamiliar and yet strangely not unknown presence. Although seated and hunched with his elbows on the wood she can see he is tall, over six feet by her reckoning. His hair a rich mid brown is cut to his chin and she can see the scruff of hair on his cheeks a promise of a hint of beard, although not a full one. He is dressed in a charcoal grey chunky knit jumper which buttons up on the shoulder, dark jeans and boots which although of good quality have seen better days. There is something about him that makes her look longer than would be considered by most appropriate. It is as if she knows him although she has never laid eyes on him before. She notices under his jumper his shoulders are broad, powerful and taper to a narrow waist and hips. She notes the strength in his buttocks and long legs and she finds herself wondering what he would look like naked, what kind of a lover he would be. Would his hands be soft or rough with a hint of callouses? She feels the heat rise in her face and a stab of pure lust lance through her belly and shifts in her seat tearing a ragged breath into her lungs that suddenly feel as if there is not enough air in the room. She is about to look away back to the safety of her phone and Victor’s message when she finds herself staring into a pair of the brightest brown eyes she’s ever seen, he has turned under her scrutiny. For a long moment she’s mesmerised by them, the deepness, the secrets that she aches to unlock, the hurt that lurks in their very depths. He seems to look into her very soul and know her. A dark note of fear stirs deep within her – he is dangerous but confusingly she also feels; at first she can’t fathom the feeling but then in comes in a flash - safe. She jumps as her phone begins to vibrate and tears her eyes away from his to the screen to see Victor’s name flashing across it. She lifts the phone to her ear.  
“Victor what’s going on? Where the hell are you, this was your idea to meet.” She knows she sounds agitated but it is more to do with her reaction to the stranger at the bar who she can feel is still looking at her than to her friend’s seeming abandonment.

“Ness, I am so sorry but I’m not going to be able to make it. It’s Lily. She’s having; well you know what’s she’s like. I can’t leave her, please understand.” She can hear the slight tinge of desperation in his voice and knows that any questions or a tirade would be unwelcome. She would have to save them and her advice for another time.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, no. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.” His relief is palpable and the phone goes dead just as she hears something being smashed in the background.

“Shit.” She mummers the expletive under her breath and glances at the almost full bottle of wine in front of her. She grabs her barely touched glass and brings it to her lips. It is then she realises that she is not alone, someone else is close by and she looks up to find the familiar stranger standing just slightly closer than convention normally warrants, his warm brown eyes seeming to caress over the curves and edges of her face and form. His hand is extended and she immediately and without thought places hers into it feeling it encased in warmth and slight roughness.

“Professor Ives. I know you don’t know me but we have a mutual friend who pointed you out to me the other day and I’ve wanted to make your acquaintance ever since. My name is Ethan Chandler, I’m here on a sabbatical from the University of New Mexico. I understand from your conversation that your friend has become otherwise engaged and I was hoping you’d allow me to join you for the night?”

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
He’d noticed her that very first day still hazy with jet lag barely coping and finding the unfamiliar city stressful with its strict customs and banal rules. The jolt of recognition on laying his eyes on her that first time had not been the shock it should have been. Somehow she was so familiar – his soul knew her. He would have noticed her anyway, her ethereal beauty - her skin pale as cream, her hair with the iridescent sheen of a starlings wing and those blue eyes that seemed to know everything, that would see through any lie. She seemed almost of another time, her clothes styled with an echo to a century past – waist line cinched so tight it almost looked corseted. Although not tiny in height she was delicately made and would appear more so next to his bulk. She was not his usual type if he truly had one. He’d frequently chosen the easy all American beauty, blonde and tanned, long legged with porn star breasts, a bright smile and manner. A girl that didn’t challenge him, uncomplicated, fun; a foil for his darkness. Women had always fallen for his easy charm, his roguish good looks and his lithe physic as had members of his own sex and he’d never fought that side of his sexuality – he’d played that field too – desire was a game he indulged in, revelled in, chasing new experiences and acceptance. She was everything he’d always avoided, too knowing, too immersed in mystery and intrigue, too dark, yet one glimpse of her and every one of his defences had come crashing to the ground. Frederick Lyle, the plump and dreadfully camp Professor of Ancient History who’d been assigned as his aide knew her of course, Frederick knew everyone and he’d quizzed him carefully just to gain enough information so that he could instigate a meeting without the formality of an introduction – this was hardly the 1890’s. Fredrick has waxed lyrical about the exquisite Ms. Ives, her beauty, her intelligence, her mystery but he had recognised something else in the man’s tone the slight hum of fear – and that intrigued him. He had to meet her. And so that is why he was here sitting at this slightly dismal bar on a Monday night nursing a Jack Daniels because he’d been told she would be there to meet a friend. He knew the moment she’d entered the room. It was almost as if the atmosphere changed. He’d watched her surreptitiously through slightly hooded eyes. Her hair was down, an artful tangle of raven curls. Her jacket, which looked like it was made of black velvet was tight fitted to her torso highlighting the curve of her breasts and slender waist in juxtaposition to the wide, dark red skirt that fell in generous folds to mid-calf. The sheen of silver gleamed at her throat, wrists and fingers. Her outward appearance spoke of control and modesty but this was only an exoskeleton of conventionality that she’d built and like his it was a façade. He recognised in her the soul of a hunter, a ruthless predator, a killer ready to strike ruthlessly, without question or regard to protect her and hers. She was the scorpion to his wolf. She was dangerous, but so was he and the beast caged inside him howled to possess her and protect her. He’d heard the quiet conversation unfolding behind him and knew from only her side that she was now alone. Which is how he now found himself standing next to her, holding her fragile hand which she’d given to him so naturally. For a moment he had to fight the urge to pull her to her feet and crush his mouth to hers to taste her wildness and he knew that she wouldn’t fight it that somehow she was as affected by him as he is by her.  
“Frederick.” A ghost of a smile flickered over her lush lips. “Sit down Mr. Chandler. May I offer you some wine?”  
“Actually Professor it’s Dr. I’ve not yet aspired to your dizzy heights of academia. But let’s dispense with formality Vanessa? And yes, I’d love some wine.”  
Still grasping her hand he sits, hooking his foot round the chair so he can drag it closer to her, he needs to be as close as possible.  
“Ethan,” She seems to roll his name around in her mouth to taste it and he thrills to hear it, the way she seems to enjoy saying it. “From the Hebrew meaning strong and yes there is a strength in you Dr Chandler. Strength and darkness and quite an amount of pain I’d guess. Your touch tells me that as do your eyes. But these are things that can be whispered of later. Ethan, lend me my hand so I can pour the wine safely as I’m apt to spill it if I have to resort to my left and that would be a shame as it is a good year. I will return it straight to you if you so desire.”  
He laughs at this but then before letting go brings the palm to his mouth and presses a kiss to its very centre. The gesture seems suddenly more shockingly intimate than the kiss he’d just imagined bestowing on her and he watches as her eyes widen slightly.

“Christ, I’m sorry…..”   
But she only smiles, pressing her finger tips to his lips and then bringing her hand up to the side of his head to smooth down the side of his face lingering against his cheek and jaw.  
“Don’t apologise for acting on your desires. I appreciate your honesty and I take no offense in it. I have always admired people who risk rejection with so little regard to their hearts.”  
He watches as she pours him a generous measure of the ruby liquid almost an exact match of the skirt she is wearing and accepts it gratefully with a small smile that she returns. He then feels the touch of her cool skin against his other hand and takes it again caressing the delicate digits cautious at how near the fine skin the bones are. He has the overarching desire to feed her to watch her consume food that he has bought and prepared for her to nourish and nurture her. At first he thought it was just lust, a deep sexual attraction that drew him so inexorably towards her; he certainly desires her but he now recognises it as more than this; an overwhelming desire to possess her mind and soul as well as her body, to see that smile and the way it warms those cool blue eyes when she looks at him as the first and last thing that he sees every day. He slowly lifts the glass to his mouth relishing the dark oaky taste of the wine without breaking his gaze on her, her eyes, her mouth, the shadows that grace the hollows of that too thin face. She too drinks and seems to enjoy his eyes upon her.   
“So are you going to tell me?”  
He is confused for a moment - he can’t remember her asking a question but he’s been concentrating so hard on the play of light on her face and the way that her hand feels in his that maybe he’d missed it.  
“Tell you what?” He hopes he sounds casual but his response doesn’t seem to faze her.  
“How this is going to play out between us?” She pauses for a moment and then continues. “I want you tonight - either in my bed or yours - that makes little odds. If it wouldn’t rock the entire University faculty and end with our arrest I’d take you right now on this table. I will not apologise for being forward because I believe that you are a man who like me appreciates total honestly. It’s clear you feel same and that you have been drawn here tonight maybe not with the precise intention to get me into bed but you know as do I it is inevitable – in this we are slaves to another force and why should be deny ourselves the pleasure. We can, if you wish follow societies conventions; dinner, a film, romantic walks before we give in, in the accepted amount of time to our basest desires. Ethan there is something between us more than just lust to be satisfied in a quick tumble. I don’t understand it but somehow it as if I have been waiting for you all my life and now you’re here I need to be as close to you as I can and never let you go. I’m not wrong am I?”  
She’d sounded so assured throughout that whole speech until the end when her eyes had clouded with doubt and her voice dropped to a whisper for just a moment. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard and yet it made perfect sense. There was no verbal answer he can give her and so he leans forward tangling her hair through his fingers and pulls her towards him, gently brushing his nose against hers before pressing onto her beautiful mouth the first of a forever of kisses.  
She stands, her eyes glowing, a smile of dark joy on her lips and leads him out into the cold night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the end but I could continue and will if people would like me to. Let me know - am happy to oblige or not x

The street lights have just begun to glow in the evening air. Her hand is lost in the warmth of his and never has she felt so certain. She is an expert of the one night stand, the brief and torrid encounter of the lost, but this is different. He is different and tonight will be a beginning not an end of that she is certain.

“Wait.” 

His voice is soft in the still air but there is an authority there that she can’t ignore. She turns and finds herself pulled against the hardness of his body his arms wrapping around her slender form. His hands move in deep circles against her back and she melds herself against him folding her arms around his waist, for the first time in her life it seems, feeling perfectly safe with this, the most familiar of strangers. She pillows her cheek against his chest closing her eyes, relishing the slight roughness of the wool of his thick jumper and breathing in the scent of him, heady, musky, earthy and essentially male. She feels his lips on her hair and knows that he too is inhaling the scent of her skin and hair, familiarising himself with her very essence. His hand run up her back and she can almost feel what they will be like against her naked flesh and then they find the sides of her face gently easing her away from the comfort of his body to gaze deep into her eyes.

“Darlin’ are you sure about this? I’m not sure I could walk away even if I wanted to but it’s going to be a damn sight harder later, after…” he leaves the thought open but she knows what he means.

“Do you believe in fate Ethan? The Ancient Greeks believed that in the distant past that souls existed as pairs but then something happened to separate them and forever they wander trying to find their other half. It seems to me that my soul recognises yours as its other half. They have found each other as if it were fated and how can we, mere mortals deny this and why should we? Because the morals and conventions of society dictate it? Why waste a moment when we don’t know which will be our last? We who have known so much pain, so much loneliness surely deserve this chance even it is only meant to be fleeting. I think Dr Chandler that I will fall in love with you, if you don’t mind me saying.”

His eyes shine in the gathering gloom, his thumbs tracing the high arc of her cheekbones causing the blood to race to her cheeks. The air between them is heavy with desire she can almost see it as a tangible object.

Slowly he lowers his face to hers brushing his nose against hers one of his hands moving to grasp her chin intimately.  
“Will fall? Have fallen Vanessa, totally and completely. You have bewitched me and I never, ever want to be released. Christ, I didn’t believe it was possible but here I am, literally in love at first sight.” His mouth curves into a grin that makes his face look younger, more hopeful and some of the pain seems to dissipate from the brownness of his eyes.

His lips descend onto hers softly at first but soon it becomes deeper, more insistent his tongue tracing the shape of her mouth pressing against the seam of her lips which open gladly under the onslaught. It is a kiss of claiming, possession and she feels her knees buckle under the waves of passion that shoot from deep in her soul to curl through her body like flames. If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly she would have fallen to the floor. They break apart, their breathing ragged in the darkening air and she can see the passion in his eyes burning bright.

“My house is 10 minutes’ walk from here but if we run we could be there in 5.”

She can feel as well as hear the deep chuckle that resonates through his chest.

“Believe me darlin’ I can barely wait to get you somewhere private but I want to enjoy every moment of being with you.” He bows slightly and offers his arm which with a grin so unusual on her face she takes, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.

“So let me escort you home Professor Ives where I will strip you naked and make every kind of love to you possible.”

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
Ethan Chandler would not ever purport to being a romantic man he has never felt the want or the need but with the woman walking along by his side he suddenly gains insight into how those of his acquaintance who have ‘fallen in love’ could become the kind of slushy fool he’d always slightly despised. Yes the passion burns deep. He wants her. To give her pleasure and take his from her. To watch and feel her come undone under his hands and mouth. But there is more. He wants to help her as she performs mundane, everyday tasks. Feed her. Surprise her with gifts. Watch that smile which he knows is as rare as a precious jewel light up her face because of him and what he’s done. To give her children. To earn and keep her friendship not just her desire. To cleave her body and soul to him until they take their last breath. He has always believed that love was a constraint, that it took away self but in that moment as he looks at her and feels her matching his every step he understands it as a freedom.

Although he cannot wait to get her alone he feels an almost sense of regret at they finally get to the door of her house. He enjoyed their walk through the darkening streets, the easy almost familiar companionship. She had pointed out places of interest to him and told him in her husky voice the story of how she, a lowly professor of religion, found herself living alone in a huge house in one of the most sort after and expensive areas of this ancient city. The bequest of her beloved but eccentric grandmother and much to the disapproval of the rest of the family who took it as an insult and practically cut her off.  
He moves to stand behind her as she inserts the key into the lock smoothing his hands down her arms enjoying the feeling of the soft velvet of her jacket under his hands and wondering if her actual skin will be so soft. Will it have the fine delicacy of silk or the rich smoothness of satin – he thinks the former that her skin like her frame will seem almost fragile with the translucence of an exotic flower that every touch will mark it. The thought of seeing on her skin the physical signs of his passion arouses him and he sweeps her midnight hair to one side laying the column of her neck bare to his lips. He feels her body respond to his touch, her head falling back in abandon against his shoulder her hands curving up to grasp his head running her nails across his scalp with just the right amount of pressure to cause him to gasp.

Her voice sounds husky as they stand entwined in the porch and he hears her breath hitch as his tongue joins his lips to trace down the tendons of her delicate neck.

“Ethan I think if you don’t stop we are going to end up having sex right here and believe me when I say it will cause a great deal of consternation with many of my neighbours who have little good to say about me. Inside there is a variety of rugs, sofas or even a bed where we might resume in more comfort and privacy. I am not averse to displays of exhibitionism but would prefer they not happen on my doorstep.”

He laughs and reaching round her waist turns the key that has been forgotten in the lock and pushes open the door allowing them to enter and then shutting it behind them. The hall is deep in gloom and he can see little, though with the borrowed light from the street lamps outside, he can just make out a black and white checked tiled floor and walls that are covered with pictures of differing sizes. He feels her move away slightly down the hall to become softly illuminated in the light of an amber glass shaded lamp sitting on a hall table to his left which she has just switched on. The diffused light suits her, softening her features and making her eyes glow with promises. He thinks at that moment she looks otherworldly, as if she could disappear at any moment and inwardly admonishes himself for such romantic foolery but he cannot help it, from the moment he had laid his eyes on her he was captivated and happy to be ensnared. 

“Can I get you a drink, I have a very good bottle of red wine already open and maybe we could indulge in a little more conversation for a while or shall we adjourn directly to the bedroom?” 

Although he can barely supress his want for her, to finally feel her naked skin against his the idea of stretching the anticipation to further ignite his passion is intriguing. He has never been a man to wait for pleasure, he has never had to, so to wait for her fills him with a deep, intense pleasure that he has never before felt.  
At his agreement she comes forward and takes his hand leading him to a room just past the table and its glowing lamp, the door slightly ajar. She pushes it fully open ushering him in. 

“Make yourself at home.” And with a smile and a squeeze of his fingers she disappears deeper into the gloom of the hallway.

The room he has entered seems to be some kind of study, it is small and has a feeling of intimacy; this is a private room and he senses not a space that she often invites others into. It is her sanctuary and the fact that she has allowed him access so freely demonstrates that his feelings for her are obviously reciprocated. The walls where they are not covered with crammed bookshelves and more paintings evocative of those in the hall way are painted a deep, rich red so dark almost to be burgundy. The wooden floor glows with age and care and is covered in places by a variety of rugs, Persian and others he cannot identify in a riot of muted shades. As well as pictures the walls are covered with religious iconography. Crucifixes, reside companionably with Mezuzah. A prayer mat patterned deep blue and gold hangs above the fire place that is crowed with plaster saints and various representations of Hindu deities. Other more ancient artefacts join the throng. Fertility statues from long forgotten faiths reside next to Celtic crosses and on the table in front of the fire which is has burnt down to embers but still emits a comforting heat lays a tarot deck seemingly set out for a reading. 

However he is not the only living item in this room of objects. A magnificent grey blue cat is curled on the cushion strewn button back sofa. It stretches on his approach opening its mouth on white needle-like teeth and the pinkest tongue he has ever seen. It blinks its owl like orange eyes and jumps down to greet him as he stands in front of the fire watching the street lamps glow through the large picture window swathed in dark velvet of an indeterminable colour. It curls round his legs and almost without thinking he bends down to pick it up where is lays trustingly in his arms as he sinks his fingers into fur that has the texture of swan’s down. Holding his companion snugly in his arms he walks slowly round the room pausing only to turn on a lamp that sits on an ordered desk, so unlike his cluttered workspace, in front of the window. Whispering comfortingly to the beautiful feline he walks back to the fire enjoying the warmth and the companionship.

“I see you’ve met Sembene.” He turns round to see her, a vision framed in the door way. She is carrying two glasses filled with crimson liquid in her hands. In the moments they’ve been apart she’s changed and is now wearing a kimono style robe of the deepest blue the collar and sash belted tightly at her slim waist is the same red as the skirt she was wearing.

“You are beautiful.” He murmurs and this is no platitude she is the most exquisite thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

She smiles at the compliment turning slowly round so he can admire the whole effect and then glides slowly towards him to join him and the cat who is now purring rhythmically, in front of the fire. Without her shoes, which she has also removed the top of her head only comes to his chin and she raises herself on her toes to press a kiss to his lips her eyes sparkling.

“Come, sit with me.” She gestures to the sofa where she sinks down gracefully into the corner tucking her long legs and naked feet under her. He joins her placing the cat gently onto his lap where it curls up and promptly falls asleep. She passed him one of the glasses which they chink together and takes a mouthful of the wine relishing the rich flavour.

“Do you smoke?” 

“I don’t take tobacco.” He admits and grins at her reply.

“Neither do I.” She reaches for an ornate silver box and begins to roll a spliff. He watches her skill holding the block of dark resin in a delicate silver vice keeping the flame of an antique lighter away from her fingers, just enough to enable her to crumble a good portion to mix with the tobacco, Turkish she tells him. With care she rolls it into a neat cylinder and placing it between her wine-stained lips lights it and inhales deeply. He watches entranced as her eyes close and her body becomes wreathed in the tendrils of grey smoke making her seem even more fey-like. In this room, surrounded by the artefacts of a dozen faiths she appears like a priestess, mysterious but not cold or aloof. She is everything sensual and alluring. 

She offers the joint to him which he takes. It has been awhile since he smoked but he always enjoys the calmness and mellowness it brings and inhales deeply mentally complimenting her choice, it is smooth and rich with an aromatic flavour, this is no cheap multi-pressed slate but fresh and full of oil.

“So Ethan tell me something of yourself. How you find yourself such a long way from home.”

He pauses, slightly unsettled by the request. How much can he tell her of his past? Their love is so recent and so fragile that surely it could not survive the whole truth. That would have to come later. Later when he has gained her complete trust. Later when he is damn sure that she is as deeply enamoured of him as he is of her. Later when those clear, blue eyes will not turn away in scorn, in disgust but would hold his; accept and understand.

And so he tells her a sort of truth, enough so that it sounds honest, but clouded enough that much is still hidden, choked with a delicate maze half-truths and lies. He watches her closely. She is no fool and he is not sure that she believes that what he tells her is all, but it is enough. Enough for tonight – but not forever.  
Soon the wine is drunk and the remains of the spliff lies in the ashtray. With an assurity she moves towards him her hand cupping his cheek her fingers buried in the long strands of his hair. Her blue eyes seem to pull him in and he knows that he is lost, lost in his love of this the most mysterious and beautiful woman he has ever encountered.

“It is time my love.” Her voice is a throaty whisper.

“Time.” It isn’t a question - he still needs her to instigate what will unfold between them. He needs the assurance that she is as affected by him as he is by her. That is not a careless feeling but one deeply rooted in mutual adoration. 

“Time for bed.”

She stands holding out her hand. Gently he lifts the still sleeping cat off his lap and taking her hand lets her lead him out of their sanctuary and deeper into her home and heart.


	3. Chapter 3a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Vanessa pov only - Ethan's will follow

As she climbs the stairs her soon to be lover’s hand clasped in her own she wonders at the things that have come to pass since she laid her eyes on him. The words and touches they have shared, such little things but feeling in the calm of these moments like the prelude to something more. Even if nothing more comes from this than a night of passion and kindness she knows soul deep it is a beginning which will continue long after the actual physical act. She feels as though she has been waiting for this moment all her life and in this night, if only a night it is to be, in those few hours she will find the culmination of a lifetime of love and tenderness under his body and his touch. She feels none of the usual anticipation typical of her usual trysts about his body or the way he will make love. She already knows as if they have been here before and just forgotten. The lovemaking will be like a remembrance and she finds that thought incredibly arousing. 

At the top of the stairs she hesitates just for a second. The first door on the right is the room in which she has always indulged in and played out her sexual needs. It is a room made for meaningless but necessary acts of release that she has always craved. A room furnished with lies, decadent in its excesses of velvet and satin – a fantasy. But it is not a room for him, for them. He seems to sense her hesitation.

“We don’t have to do this, if you’ve changed your mind I’ll understand.” 

And she knows even without looking at him that he would. That he would exit the house with no ill feelings towards her that he would find her again, woo her with his voice, his eyes, his very presence. Would wait until the end of days.

She turns to look at him in the gloom of the hall. He is in shadow the wall lights with their purposely dull bulbs highlighting little although she can see the gleam of his eyes, full of soft desire.

She smiles and reaches out her long fingers running over his jaw and throat feeling his muscles react, spasm under even the gentlest of her touches.

“I’ve had many lover’s Ethan and in this room here I’ve taken and given much pleasure. In this room I’ve acted out every kind of passion. In this room I’ve learnt the touch of the old and young, man and woman. In this room I’ve lost myself countless times. I could take you into this room. I could undress you and let you undress me. I could touch you and taste you, watch you come undone under my mouth and hands and lay back as you do the same to me. Leave you when you sleep because I never sleep in there. Make you coffee in the morning and kiss you as you leave. You could be just one of many that have been and will be and if I take you into that room that is what you will become. Is that what you want?”

He moves towards her closing the gap until they are so close she can almost taste the desire that flows through him.

“Vanessa I’ve know the warmth of many a luxurious bed and my experiences have been wide ranging and yours. I feel no shame in that. I’ll take you into that room and love you for as long as you will let me but in the end it will still only be a room in which we made love for the first time. The room won’t make you and me Vanessa, the room in itself is meaningless as to me is every act that happened there before tonight. You said when I met you that this was more than just a quick tumble and that you had been waiting for me. I will take any test you want darlin’. I will walk away now although it will break my heart to do it and…..” here his mouth twisted into a wry smile as he glanced down, “probably cause me a physical injury but I will. In there, out here wherever it happens for me will only ever be a beginning.”

He lowers his mouth his fingers finding her chin to pull her mouth to him. The kiss is gentle but behind it she can sense his passion, his need barely supressed. The fact that his words echo her own deepest desires and feelings convince her that the whisper of an idea that had been forming in her mind since they had ascended the stairs is a risk she was willing to take. She brakes the kiss and gazes into his eyes seeing in their earthy depths everything she needs. Taking his hand she begins leading him again towards the door at the end of the hall. As she lays her hand on the handle she feels his fingers ghost down her silk covered back coming to end at the tie of her robe.  
“Your room.” It took a moment for her to understand the tone in his voice; thanks.

As she pushes the door open she replies.

“Our room.”

She cannot think why she hesitated before. The very fact that she took him straight to her study rather than the usual sitting room surely meant that as she had sensed there was so much more to this than any of her previous encounters. She turned to look at him and the rightness of his presence in this her most private of spaces overwhelmed her. She watched as his eyes took in the space and he didn’t seem surprised at the simplicity he encountered, the stripped floor boards with only a rug by the bed, the lack of furniture a dressing table and small desk by the window swathed in sea green drapes. The large, simple iron bedstead covered in plain, white bedding. She moves to switch on the bed side lamp and to light the pre-laid fire in the grate. She senses his movements and on turning sees that he’s removed his heavy jumper and his boots. In his dark jeans and the grey Henley shirt he reminds her of a man from another time like he’s been cast back from her past to love her again. 

She moves towards him mindful of the way his eyes darken as she approaches, a smile playing across her mouth which is reflected in his. She stands in front of him running her palms down over the plains of his chest over his stomach to the waist band of his trousers acutely aware of the heat that radiates through the cotton that brushes against her skin. With caution never breaking gaze she tugs the material loose slipping her hands under to feel first hand the ripple of suede like skin lightly furred over taunt muscles. Her smile wides as she sees his reaction the catching of his plush lower lip between his teeth and the hitch of his breathe. She glides upwards bunching the fabric and he raises his arms helping her ease it over his head to stand shirtless before her hungry gaze. Her eyes lower to take him in, the broad shoulders, the lightly haired chest, nipples dark against the skin which shows evidence of much time spent in the sun. She knows against his gold she will look as pale as bone. 

“I want to touch you but I want to focus totally on you so you must not touch me until I say however much you want to. Can you agree to that?” She whispers this against the roughness of his jaw.  
Her mouth dips to the hollow of his throat her tongue tasting the tender flesh hearing a soft growl issue deep in his throat which she takes for acceptance. Her fingers circle whorling his soft chest hair her mouth moving down to lick first one then the other nipple before subjecting it to a light scrape of her teeth that causes him to shudder. Her fingers slip lower tracing over the corded muscles of his stomach as her lips and teeth graze over his skin that smells and tastes both of smoke and spice. On reaching the waist band of his jeans she lifts her head to stare deep into his eyes her fingers glancing over the top button feeling his erection straining against the stiff fabric of the fly.

“May I?” but she doesn’t wait for affirmation tugging at the buttons and pushing his trousers over his slim hips to crumple on to the floor where he steps quickly out of them kicking them away.

She watches as his hand clench in obedience to her request at his side and she can bear the absence of his touch no longer.  
She places the length of her body against his pressing her silk covered skin against his, clothed now only in form fitting black trunks.  
“Put your hands on me Ethan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to all readers and reviewers and also a special mention to Oerbalzalith for some much needed advice on the content x


	4. Chapter 3B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter from Ethan's point of view - sorry I stole the final dialogue from the end of season 2 episode 10 but gave it a happy twist

He is barely able to believe how this evening has played out, the very fact that he finds himself here in the house of the most beautiful and intriguing woman he has ever met. Although he’d admit he went to the bar in the hopes of an introduction never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that within a just hours of taking her hand in his that he would now be being led up the stairs to her bed by that very same hand. He has always been successful with women, casual relationships have come as frequently and easily as he’d wanted or needed but this is different. For the first time in forever he feels the deepest possible connection with a human being since the death of his mother. He is truly, madly and deeply in love with the goddess like creature whose hand he holds and who holds in her alabaster palm his heart. 

Her honesty was something he found astounding and yet not unwelcome. There was no coyness or pride in her revelations of past lovers they were just a fact of history – part of what had made her but not what defined her. It was tonight that would be the defining moment in their future. The actuality of her trust in taking him to the inner sanctum of her bedroom demonstrated that even if this was in fact only ever to be a relationship of hours that it will stay with her forever.

And now standing in the simplicity of her room her body still encased in its silken shell of the kimono style gown he is beyond the lust that has always come before with this kind of encounter. It would be enough he knows to hold her, to enfold her into his arms to shield her with his body until the end of time but the fact that she wants him, that her eyes are dark with desire, her breath catching in her throat is utterly intoxicating.

“Put your hands on me Ethan.”  
Slowly like he is touching something sacred he moves his hands to the tie of her belt pulling it so the robe falls open. Underneath she is naked, her pale skin gleaming like moonlight in the dimly lit room. He runs the back of his fingers down the valley in between her breasts down to her navel and back again. He mouth curves in a smile and a faint sigh escapes her lips. His hands return to her silk clad shoulders and inch by inch he pushes the silk away until it cascades unfettered to the floor and she stands there in her naked glory. His eyes travel down her body his gaze an act of worship. She is as slender as a whip and as finely made, her breasts full in contrast and rose tipped. His mouth waters at the sight of them peaked as they are in the cool of the room. She raises her hand to clasp the back of his neck in a gesture so familiar it takes his breath away and he knows that in some way they have been here before, that his very act has been played out down the corridors of time to where they stand together on this night.  
“Come.” Her voice is no more than a whisper and yet to his ears a siren’s call and he follows as she turns leading him towards the bed.

Wordlessly she lays down on the snowy covers her skin against the stark whiteness of the sheet becoming warmer. He takes a moment to commit every detail of her to his memory before removing his underwear to join her, to lay naked by her side warming the coolness of her flesh with the heat that radiates off his. Her skin is as delicate as he imagined, smooth and fine as silk as he runs his hands down over her rib cage to the jutting bones of her hips. He splays his hands over the slight curve of her abdomen marvelling at how his thumb and little finger easily reach the bones that protrude from her hips feeling her skin heat under his touch. The hitch in her breathing brings his attention back to her face. Her lips are biting down on the plushness of her lower lip. He captures her mouth with his and she matches his passion her lips opening under his accepting his tongue using her own to taste him, pull him deeper. His hands move to her breasts fingertips stroking the swells and curve of their sides and finally moving to brush against the tautness of her nipples. Gently he pulls at their peaks causing sighs of pleasure to emit from between her lips kissed to swollen redness by his mouth. He moves his mouth down over her jaw along the long column of her neck which she curves under his mouth as his fingers continue to tease the sensitive points of her breasts. And then he can bare it no longer bringing his mouth to hover over the reddened nub. Slowly he lowers his mouth taking her nipple rolling the hardened flesh in his mouth sucking it taut before using his tongue to sooth the sting. Holding the heavy roundness of her breasts in his hands he moves from one to another her torn moans of pleasure showing him exactly how to use his lips, teeth and tongue to prolong the ecstasy of his worshipful ministrations. 

He hardens further in response to her pleasure and his mouth glides down over her ribs and the soft concave of her stomach. His tongue dips to outline the sharpness of her hipbones and he feels her body stretch and warm like her blood is moving to the surface of her skin itself aching for his touch. His hands search lower to caress the softness of her white thighs that open slightly. He moves his body up so he can watch her face one hand curled into the richness of her hair, her eyes half hooded in the dusky light of the room as he runs a gentle but insistent finger over the seam of her sex. Her eyes open as her thighs fall wider and he gazes caught by the passion in her eyes and slowly but firmly he pushes one finger into the warmth of her core. A sigh escapes her mouth and her eyes widen gleaming darkly as he curves the digit inside her to stroke the silk of her sheath. He feels her relax and carefully inserts a second to join it setting a rhythm stroking lovingly inside her. He feels her body respond to his in a way that is unique, the liquid warmth of her arousal. It is like she was make for his mouth and lips to kiss, his fingers and hand to caress. He feels the touch of her hand sliding down the flank of his body her delicate fingers finding the head of his arousal lightly scraping her nails over it so that a hiss tears from his mouth and hers stretches to smile her pleasure to then move lower to grasp his length. She begins to move her hand in sync with the rhythm he had set deep inside her body. 

His mouth lowers onto hers which opens with a gasp as the pads of his fingers find the delicate spot deep inside her that makes her buck and writhe under this touch. His tongue penetrates deep into the warmth of her mouth her tongue finding his to stoke matching the movements of her hand. He can see nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing but this fey creature that moves with him in perfect accord and he wants nothing more than to stay by her, in her until there is no time except theirs.

He can feel her release is close but wants to be joined to her to feel her come around him, buried deep inside her. Slowly he extracts his fingers from her heat pulling himself into a sitting position reaching down to draw her beautiful form onto his lap. She wraps her legs around his waist and with a toss of her head and a wanton smile she slides down to sheath him to the hilt in her silken, liquid heat. He allows her to set the pace circling her hips, moving her body with exquisite control clutching her velvet clad muscles around him. He moves his hand to support her lower back the other hand moving down between their bodies the pads of his fingers finding the bundle of nerves their rubbing firmly but lightly watching the pleasure on her face turn wild as her body shudders. She brings her arms around his neck her head thrown back in abandon as she rides him and he meet her every thrust with his own. He can feel his own release building with hers and in the final seconds before she climaxes he hears her calling his name over and over again before her body spasms and he lets his pleasure flood inside as her muscles clench around him so deeply he cannot ever imagine being separate from her.

The come down is slow and languorous. Her body is draped over his like a silken cover her head resting on his shoulder, his hands tangled in her wild mane of ebony curls that seem to have a life of their own as they ensnare him ever closer to her. He feels her ragged breathing begin to calm in time with his own and slowly she lifts her head. Her blue eyes are beautifully sated, heavily lidded and her mouth bruised with kisses lowers gently to his to brush tenderly over his own swollen lips. Gently almost reverently she moves from his lap breaking the intimate bond and lays on her side pulling him down beside her. She lifts her body until he understands her unspoken request and wraps his arms around her to lay looking into her beloved eyes.

“Stay with me tonight.” It is a simple request but full unspoken longing.

“And tomorrow.” He responds as simply but full of unspoken meaning.  
“Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your lovely comments and support.


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